“Can I tell you a secret, Alejandro?”

“Sure. I love secrets.” He held her close so she wouldn’t fall out. That was as good an excuse as any.

“I’ve been drunk every night since I got back.”

He looked at her through his own haze of scotch and shook his head. “That’s dumb. I won’t let you do that to yourself.”

“You’re such a nice man. Alejandro, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They sat side by side and rode the rest of the way to her house in silence. He paid for the hansom cab and they rode up to her apartment, giggling in the elevator.

“You know, I think I’m too drunk to cook.”

“Just as well. I think I’m too drunk to eat.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Kezia, you should eat …”

“Later. Want to come to dinner tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here. With a lecture.” He tried to look grave but couldn’t master the expression and she laughed at him.

“Then I won’t let you in.”

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow …” They both collapsed in the kitchen with mirth, and he tipsily kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow. And make me a promise?”

“What?” All of a sudden he had looked so serious.

“No more drinking tonight, Kezia. Promise?”

“I … uh … yeah … okay.” But it was a promise she was not planning to keep.

She saw him to the elevator, and waved cheerily as the door closed, before coming back to the kitchen and bringing out the rest of last night’s fresh bottle of scotch. She was surprised that there was only an inch or so left.

It was odd, but as she poured what was left into a tumbler with one ice cube, the vision of Tiffany’s funeral flashed into mind. It was a dumb way to die, but the others all left such a big mess. At least drinking wasn’t messy … not really … not very … or was it? She didn’t really give a damn, as she smiled to herself and drained the full glass.

The phone was ringing but she didn’t bother to answer it. It couldn’t have been Luke. Even drunk she knew that much. Luke was away on a trip … in Tahiti … on a safari … and there were no phones there … but he’d be back at the end of the week. She was sure of it. Friday. And let’s see … what was today? Tuesday? Monday? Thursday! He’d be home tomorrow. She opened a fresh bottle. Bourbon this time. For Lucas. He’d be coming home soon.


Chapter 30


“Child, you look awfully thin.”

“Marina just called it ‘divinely svelte.’ She and Halpern just walked by.” The wedding had been held over the New Year’s holiday in Palm Beach.

Edward slid onto the banquette beside her. It was their first lunch in almost two months. And now she looked so different it shocked him.

Her eyes were sunken into her head, her skin looked taut on her cheekbones, and there was not even luster where once there had been fire. What a price she had paid. And for what? It still horrified him, but he had promised her not to discuss it. That was the condition on which she’d accepted his invitation to lunch. And he wanted so much to see her. Maybe there was still a chance to regain what they’d lost.

“Sorry I was late, Kezia.”

“Not to worry, love. I had a drink while I waited.” And that was new too. But at least she was still impeccably groomed. Even more so than usual, in fact. She looked almost formal. The mink coat she so seldom wore was thrown over the back of a chair.

“Why so dressed up today, my dear? Going somewhere after lunch?” Normally, she played it down, but not today, and the rare appearance of the mink coat surprised him.

“I’m turning over a new leaf. Coming home to roost, as they say.” Luke’s letter that morning had insisted that she at least try her old stamping grounds again. It was better than sitting home sulking—or drinking, a new habit he didn’t know about. But she had decided to try his advice. That was why she had accepted the luncheon with Edward, and dragged out the fur coat. But she felt like an ass. Or like Tiffany, trying to dress up disaster with breath mints and fur.

“What do you mean by ‘turning over a new leaf’?” He didn’t dare mention the Luke Johns affair, she might have walked out on the spot. And he was afraid of that. He signaled the waiter to order their usual Louis Roederer champagne. The waiter looked harassed but showed he understood, with a smile.

“Oh, let’s just say that I’m making an effort to be a nice girl, and see some of my old Mends.”

“Whitney?” Edward was a little taken aback.

“I said I was being nice, not ridiculous, darling. No, I just thought I’d ‘come back’ and take a look around.” The champagne arrived, the waiter poured, Edward tasted and nodded approval. The waiter poured again for both of them, and Edward lifted his glass in a toast.

“Then allow me to say welcome home.” He wanted to ask if she had learned her lesson, but he didn’t dare. Perhaps she had, though … perhaps she had. And in any case, her little misadventure had certainly aged her. She looked five years more than her age, particularly in a simple lilac wool dress and her grandmother’s remarkable pearls. And then he noticed the ring. He glanced at it and nodded approval. “Very pretty. Something new?”

“Yes. Luke got it for me in San Francisco.” Something pinched in his face again. Bitterness. Anger.

“I see.” There was no further comment, and Kezia finished her drink while Edward sipped his champagne.

“How is the writing these days?”

“It’ll do. I haven’t written anything I like in a while. And yes, Edward, I know. But looking at me like that won’t change a damn thing. I know all about it.” She was suddenly sick of the constant arch in his brows. “That’s right, darling, I’m not writing as well as I should. I’ve lost twelve pounds since you last saw me, I lock myself up at home because I’m terrified of reporters, and I look ten years older. I know all about it. We both know I’ve had a rough time. And we both know why, so stop looking so fucking shocked and disapproving. It’s really a dead bore.”

“Kezia!”

“Yes, Edward?”

He realized then from the look in her eyes that she had had more to drink than he’d thought. He was so stunned that he half turned in his seat and eyed her intensely.

“Okay, darling, what now? Is my mascara on crooked?”

“You’re drunk.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes, I am,” she whispered back with a bitter little smile. “And I’m going to get drunker. How’s that for a fun day?” He sat back in his seat with a sigh, searching for the right words to say, and then he saw her. The reporter from Women’s Wear Daily, eyeing them from across the room.

“Damn.”

“Is that all you can say, love? I’m turning myself into an alcoholic and all you can think of is ‘damn’?” She was playing with him now, evilly, meanly, but she couldn’t help herself. She was shocked when she felt his grip on her arm.

“Kezia, that woman from Women’s Wear is over there and if you do anything, anything to catch her attention or antagonize her, I’ll … you’ll regret it.” Kezia laughed a deep-throated laugh and kissed his cheek. She thought it was funny, and Edward felt the sinking feeling of events slipping away from him, out of control. She wanted to bait everyone; she didn’t want to “come home.” She didn’t even know where home was. And she was worse than Liane had ever been. So much more brazen, so much stronger, tougher, m***ore willful … and so much more beautiful. He had never loved her more than now, at this instant, and all he wanted to do was shake her, or slap her. And then make love to her. Right in the middle of La Grenouille if he had to. The ideas suddenly running through his mind shocked him, and he shook his head as though to clear it. As he did, he felt Kezia patting his hand.

“Don’t be afraid of silly old Sally, Edward, she won’t bite you. She just wants a story.” He found himself wondering if they should leave now, before they had lunch. But that might make a scene too. He felt trapped.

“Kezia….” He was almost trembling with fear, and all he could do was take her hand in his, look into her eyes and pray that she’d behave herself and not create a scene. “Please.” Kezia saw the pain in his eyes, and it was like scalding oil on her soul. She didn’t want to see his feelings, not now. She couldn’t handle her own, let alone his.

“All right Edward. All right.” She looked away, her voice subdued again, and noticed the WWD reporter making little notes on a pad. But there would be no further story. Only that they had been seen. She was not going to make trouble. They’d all had enough. “I’m sorry.” She said it with the sigh of a child, leaning back against the banquette, as relief swept over Edward. It made him feel tender again.

“Kezia, why can’t I help you?”

“Because nobody can.” There were tears trembling on her lashes. “Just try to accept that there isn’t a hell of a lot you can do for me right now. The present is what it is, and the past happened, and the future … well, I don’t see it too clearly right now. Maybe that’s the trouble.” She often found herself wondering now if this was what Tiffany had felt. As though someone had stolen the future. They had left her the large emerald ring and the pearls, but no future. It was hard to explain it to Edward. He was always so certain of everything. It made him seem far away too.

“Do you regret the past, Kezia?” But he looked up with horror at the reaction in her eyes. He had said the wrong thing again. Lord, it was hard to talk to the girl. Crucifixion over lunch.

“If you are referring to Lucas, Edward, of course I don’t regret it. He’s the only decent thing that’s happened to me in the last ten or twenty, or maybe even thirty years. What I regret is the revocation. There’s nothing I can do about it now. There’s nothing anyone can do. You can’t appeal a revocation of parole. It’s totally pointless.”

“I see. I didn’t realize you were still that involved in this … this problem. I thought that after …”

She cut him off, with a look of extreme aggravation.

“You thought wrong. And just so you don’t die of the shock if you see it in the papers, I’m going back out there shortly.”

“What in God’s name for?” He was speaking to her sotto voce so no one would hear, but Kezia was speaking in her normal voice.

“To visit him, obviously. And I told you, I don’t want to discuss it. And do you know something, Edward? I’m finding this entire subject inappropriate with you, and this lunch unbearably boring. As a matter of fact, darling, I think I’ve about had it.” Her voice was rising to an unpleasant timbre, and Edward could feel himself squirm inside the starch in his collar. He was hating every minute of it. She drained her glass, looked around the room for a minute, and then looked back at him strangely.

“Kezia, are you all right? You looked rather pale for a moment.” He looked terribly worried.

“No, really, I’m fine.”

“Shall I have them get you a cab?”

“Yes, maybe I ought to go. To tell you the truth, it’s a hell of a strain. That bitch from Women’s Wear has been watching us since we sat down, and all of a sudden I feel like the whole goddamn place is watching me to see what kind of shape I’m in. It’s all I can do not to stand up and tell them all to go fuck themselves.”

Edward blanched. “No, Kezia. I don’t think you ought to do that.”

“Oh hell, darling, why not? For a laugh?”

She was playing with him again, and so cruelly. Why? Why did she have to do that to him? Didn’t she know that he cared? That it tore him apart to see her this way … that he was not made merely of white shirts and dark suits … that someone lived inside the elegant tailoring, a heart … a body … a man. Tears burned his eyes and there was a gruffness in his voice as he quietly stood and took Kezia’s arm. He looked different now, and she sensed it too. The games were over.

“Kezia, you’re leaving now.” She could hardly hear his words, but she could have read his tone from across the room. She was being dismissed like a naughty child.

“Are you very angry?” She whispered it to him as he helped her into her mink. She was frightened now. She had only wanted to play … wanted to … hurt. They both knew it.

“No. Only very sorry. For you.” He guided her toward the door, keeping a firm grip on her elbow. She was going to have no chance to misbehave between the table and the door. The fun was over. And she felt oddly submissive at his side. He cast a few frosty smiles left and right as they made their way out. He didn’t want anyone to think there was trouble, and Kezia looked dreadful.

They stood for a moment at the cloakroom while he waited for the girl to retrieve his coat and homburg.